Evil Does Not Exist 2023
"Don't upset the balance."
In Ryusuke Hamaguchi's contemplative drama *Evil Does Not Exist* (2023), the quiet life of Takumi and his daughter Hana in Mizubiki Village is disrupted when plans for a luxury camping site threaten the fragile harmony of their rural sanctuary.
Director: Ryusuke Hamaguchi
Cast
Hitoshi Omika
Takumi
Ryo Nishikawa
Hana
Ryuji Kosaka
Takahashi
Ayaka Shibutani
Mayuzumi
Hazuki Kikuchi
Sachi
Hiroyuki Miura
Kazuo
Yoshinori Miyata
Horiguchi
Yûto Torii
Tatsuki
Takako Yamamura
Yoshiko
Takuma Nagao
Hasegawa
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Evil Does Not Exist (2023) about?
The film follows Takumi, a rural resident raising his daughter Hana in Mizubiki Village, as a proposed luxury camping site threatens their peaceful way of life. It delves into themes of environmental ethics and the price of modern escapism.
Who directed Evil Does Not Exist?
The movie was directed by Ryusuke Hamaguchi, the acclaimed filmmaker behind *Drive My Car* and *Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy*.
Who stars in Evil Does Not Exist?
The cast features Hitoshi Omika, Ryo Nishikawa, Ryuji Kosaka, Ayaka Shibutani, and Hazuki Kikuchi in key roles.
Is Evil Does Not Exist (2023) worth watching?
With its introspective narrative and strong thematic depth, *Evil Does Not Exist* offers a rewarding experience for fans of slow cinema and thought-provoking dramas. Its focus on natural beauty and human connection resonates beyond its runtime.
How long is Evil Does Not Exist?
The film runs for 106 minutes, or approximately 1 hour and 46 minutes.
🎥 Trailer
Evil Does Not Exist (2023): A Thought-Provoking Drama About Nature and Progress
In Ryusuke Hamaguchi's contemplative drama *Evil Does Not Exist* (2023), the quiet life of Takumi and his daughter Hana in Mizubiki Village is disrupted when plans for a luxury camping site threaten the fragile harmony of their rural sanctuary. As the villagers grapple with the encroaching modernity, the film explores the tension between tradition and progress, asking whether nature can ever truly be commodified without consequence.
Hamaguchi crafts a meditative portrait of community, environmental stewardship, and the unspoken bonds that tie people to their land. With its deliberate pacing and naturalistic performances, the movie immerses viewers in a world where tranquility is both fragile and fiercely defended, reflecting on what is lost—and what endures—when the balance is upset.
